


There Will Be No Grand Choir To Sing

by MagalaBee



Series: Ingrid Rarepair Week [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Post-War, wlw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:01:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27071647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagalaBee/pseuds/MagalaBee
Summary: It had taken years, but Ingrid's father finally seemed to wonder when, if ever, his daughter would marry the priestess she had fallen in love with.INGRID RAREPAIR WEEK DAY 3: Post-War/Marriage
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Mercedes von Martritz, Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Mercedes von Martritz, merciegrid - Relationship, mercigrid
Series: Ingrid Rarepair Week [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973008
Kudos: 18





	There Will Be No Grand Choir To Sing

**Author's Note:**

> Today, Merciegrid won the vote! ...or is in Mercigrid?
> 
> Either way, I wrote this song while listening to Florence + the Machine's "No Choir." It's a really sweet song, I highly recommend listening to it yourself and feeling soft for the quiet moments of two happy people sitting, doing nothing.

Ingrid ran her fingers through her lover’s hair. Long, soft locks that flowed around her callused digits with ease. Mercedes’s hair was like water, so smooth and silken. It was getting longer now, and it shined in the summer light. Ingrid smiled, letting her touch stray from Mercedes’s hair to instead cup her cheek.

“I think you’re starting to get freckles,” Ingrid chuckled. “So much time in the garden.”

Mercedes smiles, her eyes were closed as she laid in the grass, her head resting in Ingrid’s lap. “Dedue’s been teaching me a lot about how to make things grow,” she sighed. “It’s nice.”

“Fhirdiad has never looked so beautiful,” Ingrid commented, subconsciously beginning to count the small, faint freckles that were starting to bloom over Mercedes’s nose. She loved to watch those little things in her lover’s body. The ways she had started to change since the war.

Mercedes had been beautiful from the moment they met. Intimidating in her feminine grade when Ingrid was only a teenager and had to try not to stare so long at her classmate. Admirable and strong in her composure during the war, her neck and posture like a swan’s even in the worst of battles. Now, Mercedes seemed so much freer. No more war, no more expectations. She was growing her hair long again, spending time in the sun. Since the war, she had gained a bit of weight, bringing her curves to a luscious fullness that Ingrid adored.

“Goddess help me, you’re stunning,” the young knight whispered.

At that, Mercedes’s pale blue eyes opened, her long eyelashes fluttering without her even needing to try. “Oh stop that,” she giggled, reaching up a hand to lightly swat at Ingrid’s shoulder. “Haven’t we done this dance before?”

Ingrid chuckled. “You’re right, I know, I just… I can’t help it, Mercie. You’re gorgeous.”

“Mmmm… thank you, but so are you, darling.”

Ingrid shrugged. She never really felt beautiful, but she has never actually wanted to. The war had let her be strong, and Dimitri had named her to his King’s Guard so she could keep being so. There was little use for beauty in knighthood, but it seemed appropriate for her to be in love with a woman who was so classically delicate and soft. 

Chivalric, really. Just not in the way she had dreamed of as a girl.

“You know, your father wrote to me,” Mercedes interrupted. “I was surprised by it, actually. I didn’t think he approved much of me, but… he was very polite.”

Ingrid frowned, her shoulder rose up instinctively at any mention of her father. No matter how much Ingrid had always loved him, her relationship with him was now strained at best. Her parents hadn’t been what one could call pleased when she told them that she had no plans to marry, and instead planned to serve as a knight. They had been even less so when gossip reached them that their daughter had been caught kissing a former priestess.

“What… did he say?” Ingrid asked, not sure if she really wanted to know the answer. Her father could be incredibly compassionate at times, but he had also always been somewhat harsh with Ingrid. He never failed to make her feel the weight of Galatea on her shoulders.

That wasn’t something Ingrid ever wanted Mercedes to go through. She’d had her own fair share of bad fathers… she didn’t need Ingrid’s badgering her.

Despite Ingrid’s worries, Mercedes just giggled and shook her head. “No, no, don’t worry, darling. It was nothing like that. He… was rather heartfelt. He only asked about how much longer I would wait before making an ‘honest woman of you,’ as he put it.”

Throughout all of Ingrid’s time at Garreg Mach, her father had written her letters about getting married, so it wasn’t particularly surprising that he was asking for Mercedes’s intentions, but… the very notion of it made Ingrid burst out laughing.

“Goddess!” she blurted. “He really will take anyone, won’t he?”

Mercedes laughed too as she sat up from Ingrid’s lap, instead looking lovingly at her and leaning in close to peck her cheek.

“Come now, darling, he just thinks he’s doing the right thing. You can’t blame him for not knowing.”

In truth, Mercedes and Ingrid had already discussed weddings and marriage. Two years into their relationship-- when what had begun as a scandalous affair had turned into a domestic need to wake up together each morning-- Ingrid had nervously tried to ask for Mercedes’s hand.

But she had declined, reminding her that neither of them had ever really wanted to be wives. They didn’t see themselves as each other’s property. They didn’t need rings.

They had each other, and that was enough.

Mercedes tucked a loose curl of short, golden hair behind Ingrid’s ear and she leaned in closer, this time catching her lips and lingering. Ingrid’s laughter quickly quieted, her breath instead caught up by the beautiful, sun-kissed flavor of her lover’s lips.

“I love you,” Ingrid whispered when they pulled back for air.

“I know, Ingrid,” Mercedes whispered back, her dimples creasing into her cheeks as she smiled. “I love you too.”


End file.
